TOW The Initial Deposit
by hoppa12345
Summary: Set during 1.20 TOW The Evil Orthodontist. Monica plays a joke and Chandler doesn't take it too well...


_Set during 1.20 TOW The Evil Orthodontist_

Monica gave the mirror one last cursory wipe before stepping back and admiring her work. Finally shiny and clean again after Joey's burrito 'incident'. She smiled proudly, carefully arranged her cleaning tools in the cupboard, and headed out to the kitchen to make a well-deserved lunch.

She slowed when she saw Chandler sitting with his back to her in one of the kitchen chairs, confused. Shouldn't he be at work? She smirked when she realised he was staring dismally at the phone, still waiting for that Danielle to call. She shook her head, ready to have some fun with her normally humourous friend.

She silently moved behind him, bent over slightly and trilled, " _Brrrrrrr_ ," in his ear. He jumped comically, practically diving on the phone as he scrambled to answer it. "Hello? Hello?" he said frantically. Monica couldn't hold back a laugh, and Chandler spun around accusingly. His face fell as he realised what she'd done, and she laughed apologetically as he got up and stormed out.

She followed him across the hall, pulling up abruptly as the door to apartment 19 was slammed in her face. "Chandler, come on!" she called, barely suppressing her laughter. "It was just a joke! Come on, let me in!"

After a few minutes she gave up and went back to her apartment, feeling ever so slightly guilty that she had upset him. She decided to make some cookies - they never failed when a good cheering-up was needed.

 _•F•R•I•E•N•D•S•_

"Chandler..." Monica called enticingly a couple of hours later. "I brought cookies..."

She frowned when the door wasn't immediately flung open. She knocked before twisting the door knob and entering the boys' apartment. She looked around as she placed the tray of freshly baked gooey goodness on the counter, but the place appeared to be deserted. "Chandler? Joey?" she called again.

She was just about to turn away when she heard a muffled sound from Chandler's bedroom. Monica hesitated. Maybe Danielle had called back after all? Or maybe Chandler was alone in there, still upset with her over the phone joke. She bit her lip, weighing up the odds before shrugging and heading for the bedroom.

She knocked quietly. "Chandler, it's me. You okay?"

She heard a sigh. "Fine. Go away."

Giving a direct order to Monica Geller had never worked out for him before, so she wasn't sure why he thought it would now. She rolled her eyes - he obviously didn't know her very well - and went in. "Stop being such a girl and-" she broke off. Chandler was huddled under the blankets, his face creased with hurt. She took a few steps closer and saw that his eyes were red and puffy, and that he was sniffing. She felt a pang of sympathy. He just looked... defeated.

She silently went to sit on the side of the bed, reaching for his hand. She stroked it gently with her thumb.

Chandler took a deep, shuddering breath. His voice was thin, as though it could break at any moment. "I'm a loser, Mon. No wonder she won't call me back." He didn't quite meet her eyes as he spoke.

Monica's eyes stung and she blinked back tears. It physically hurt to see her usually light-hearted friend like this. "Oh, honey, no," she murmured. "You're not a loser. How could you say that?"

He gently pulled his hand from her grip and looked away. "Just leave me alone, Mon. I don't want to talk about it, okay? I feel crap enough already, I don't need your pity."

She gave him a long look before patting the bed beside her. "Sit."

He sighed. "Mon-"

"Sit," she said, more forcefully.

A smirk briefly played on his lips. "Okay, bossyboots. I mean, geez, ever heard of free will?"

She smiled back. "Listen up, cos I'm only gonna say this once. You're a good guy, Chandler, a _great_ guy, and you deserve someone who actually takes the time to return your calls, not this bagbrain who obviously doesn't know what's good for her. You deserve someone who really values you for _you_ , who sees how amazing you are, who really... Chandler? You okay?"

A strangled sob emanated from her friend, who had hastily buried his head in his hands. It broke her heart to see him reduced to this. "Oh, honey..." she whispered again, wrapping her arms around him. He buried his face in her shoulder as his body convulsed with sobs and she rocked gently back and forth, running a hand over his back and murmuring soothingly to him. Eventually he sat back and Monica searched his tear-streaked face.

"I just... I hate myself... so much sometimes..." he sobbed. "I don't understand... what I'm doing... wrong... I'm just so... screwed... up... I... hate... it..." he gasped for breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "Oh, God..." he wailed, dissolving into uncontrollable sobs.

Monica watched helplessly, wishing there was something she could do to make him feel better. She put her hand on his knee. "Chandler, honey... you have to realise that this girl just isn't worth all this. There's someone out there for you, I know it, and you're going to find her one day, and she's never going to want to leave your side. You know it's true. There's someone out there for you, you just have to find her, okay?"

After a few more minutes punctuated with heaving sobs, Chandler finally caught his breath. The pair sat in the silence, and all they could hear was Chandler's jagged, hitching breathing as he calmed down. After the silence had stretched on for what seemed like forever, Chandler shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"But what if there's not, and what if I can't?" he asked, so quietly she had to strain to hear him.

"Don't be stupid. There is, and you can," she reassured him firmly. "And you know what? If we're both still single by the time we're forty, maybe we can get together. Like, umm, insurance. What do you think?"

He smiled slightly but his doubt was betrayed by his eyes, which were big brown pools of misery. "Don't be ridiculous," he murmured. "That'd never happen. You'll be well and truly married by forty."

Suddenly Monica couldn't take his heartbreak and self-doubt a moment longer. She needed a way to prove that she was serious. She thought for a few seconds before standing up and grabbing his hands, pulling him up too. She smiled at him and smoothed his ruffled tie before wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning towards him. She closed her eyes and caught his bottom lip between hers, playing with it gently with her teeth before kissing him more fully, more slowly on the lips, deepening the kiss, his breath hot in her mouth. She ran her hands lightly over his mussed hair, letting her tongue dance teasingly into his mouth. Finally they broke apart for air, panting. "Consider that the initial deposit," she said coyly, smirking.

"Did you really just...? Did we...? God, you're amazing. You really know how to distract a guy, hey?" he said, looking at her in half-disbelief.

She smiled again. Suddenly he seemed to remember why she had done it in the first place, and began to turn a bright shade of pink.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, embarrassed.

"Sorry? For what?"

"I'm sorry that... that you had to see me like this."

"No, don't _you_ be sorry," she told him guiltily. " _I'm_ sorry that we've all been making fun of you when you've been hurting this much."

"S'okay..."

"No, it's not. We should have been there for you. I can't believe we didn't see it."

"Oh, come on, Mon, give me _some_ credit. Of course you didn't see it, I'm a man, I don't have emotions, yada yada yada, you know the drill... so why would you guys look for them?"

Monica laughed lightly, moving back towards him and engulfing him in a tight embrace. "You know it's okay to have emotions, right? You don't have to 'be a man' all the time, Chandler. You're allowed to feel things."

"Yeah, and risk being called a girl?" he scoffed lightly, pulling back so that he could see her face as he winked at her.

She looked away. "Sorry."

"It's okay, stop apologising," he said softly, pulling her back in.

After a few minutes of silence, Monica said again, "I just can't believe we didn't realise you were _this_ upset."

"Sarcasm worked, eh?" he joked with a flash of his usual spirit.

"A little too well, if you ask me," she retorted, smiling slightly. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed hers back. He'd be okay.


End file.
